


No One Else Around

by Talullah



Category: Hawaiian Mythology
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-26
Updated: 2008-10-26
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:11:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1640702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/pseuds/Talullah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poliahu seeks some company after waking alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One Else Around

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elke Tanzer (elke_tanzer)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elke_tanzer/gifts).



> Written as a NYR for , for Elke Tanzer who requested "Pele/Poliahu: Gen, het, slash, femslash, it's all good. I'll love anything that includes the juxtaposition of fire and ice, heat and cold of these two sisters. If you want to toss in any of their lovers and tell a story of their rivalry, if you want to toss in any of their sisters and explore the women's interrelationships, if you want to focus on one of Pele or Poliahu and only include the other as a minor presence. All would be just wonderful."
> 
> [Disclaimer/Blanket Statement](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/profile)

Poliahu eyes the mirror of the crystalline mountain water pool at her feet, reflecting generous clouds and impossibly azure skies. It is spring and Mauna Kea is thawing under the irrepressible warmth of the sun. Trading her winter coat for the one with the bright sunshine gleam, she smiles at the verdancy beneath her, the happy murmuring of the streams. The year will be a good one for the mortals if it depends on her. Maybe it is time to go down to the villages, play the games and find a lover. She has been lonely without her sisters.

She takes the winding path down the East slope but long before she reached the foothill she remembers. The times have changed. The mortals will not recognize her and she will be treated like any other girl, or worse, she will be treated like a feeble minded woman, as she keeps using the old language and forgetting all about the new customs. One time, the last Poliahu ventured down, the men went so far as to try and take her without consent, drunk on some strong beverage she did not know. Nothing is as it used to be.

She stops in her tracks and looks down. She misses company so much, misses laughing, playing, winning the games, dancing by the firelight, gleaming in her beauty as the men fawn around her and the women die of envy. If only Lilinoe was here... Her older sister never liked descending from the mountains as much as she did, but occasionally she would consent and, despite her ill nature, Lilinoe would have fun and they both would come back home late, tired and happy. Where is Lilinoe? Where is everybody? 

Poliahu continues her descent. Mortals, changed or no, are still good company. She feels like she has slept too much, as if more than one winter went by without her awakening in between. Can that be possible? Waiau used to say that she would disappear the day she was forgotten by mortals. Poliahu and Kahoupokane laughed at her, teased her for being superstitious. They were goddesses, maidens of snow. They would exist for as long the world had mountain tops, blossoming every winter. Now where is Kahoupokane with her breezy laughter and irrepressible cheek? Where are Waiau and Lilinoe? 

The cold fingers of fear press on Poliahu's heart. She shakes her body, lets loose her long mane, takes a deep breath. Nonsense, it's all nonsense. Some mortals still remember her as more than a fireside story - she saw the gifts left for her on the slopes. Waiau is wrong, has to be. Poliahu passes by the first village but no one comes to their doors to greet her. The few people she sees seem to be entranced in their work and don't even lift their heads for a 'good morning'. She feels invisible. Stupid mortals. Stupid. She can find better than these. She can find people who see her beauty and respect her power. 

Marching on, she reaches the sea. Everyone is busy or blind. Poliahu feels the chill growing around her, the unmistakable sign of her cold rage. The only acknowledgement of this anger is a young girl who stops for a second to rub her arms before running off after the boy she's playing with. 

Poliahu's vexation grows as she goes around the Hamakua coast. A few old men and women greet her with an unbelieving smile of recognition. This irks her more - the only people who see her are too old and feeble to play a game, run a race, dance a tune. Stomping her feet, she walks on, walks along the sea line. She has gone far, away from the East slope of her home and up North. When she reaches the tip of the island, she looks back. Mauna Kea looks small and iridescent under the sun. Odd. She has taken off her snow coat, she is sure. Ah, she remembers. It's the things the pink men built on the top with all the glinting metal and the shining mirrors. To watch the stars, they say, as if the stars need all that fuss to be seen. 

Poliahu clenches her hands in silent anger and kneels by the sea. The water gently laps at her knees, forming little crystals. All the gifts she has given have been tempered with love and selflessness. She was not waiting, hoping, demanding for recognition but it hurts so much to see that no one cares anymore. There's pinching cold on her cheek; Poliahu raises her hand only to find an icicle. The maid that always laughed now cries alone in a beach away from her home. Pathetic. 

Poliahu shakes herself. One thing she is not is pathetic, never has been and it's no time to start. So mortals don't want her. So feh. She sticks her tongue out at the sea - apparently, they don't want her either as Kanaloa fails to come to her in this hour of distress.

Looking around herself, Poliahu searches for a way. She puffs her chest out, straightens her back, squares her shoulders and walks on to the west coast. Whoever said it was best to be alone than in ill company is a fool. And if they think she should just crawl back to her home and sleep a few more centuries, boy, don't they know what's coming.

When she sees Mauna Loa before her, she grins. 

"PELE!!" she roars. She's still far away but she could almost swear that Pele roared something back. 

Picking up her step, she fills her lungs with the scents of Pele, warm ash and _life_. The shock makes Poliahu hesitate. Pele feels alive, feels more real than her, than most of the things she's seen on her way. Fear creeps insidiously into Poliahu's heart. She has always defeated Pele, but it has always been close. Now she's here, alone, unprepared, stumbling in every rock as if she were still asleep and Pele is vibrating with life, her strength evident in every sinew of the terrain. What has happened to the world? Is there no balance anymore? 

Poliahu swallows the fear and walks on, passing by groups of tourists, obnoxious creatures, with their blabbering and their ooohs and aaahs and their skins the colour of boiled lobsters. They too speak of Pele and legends and curses for those who steal the rocks. They _believe_ in Pele. Waiau was right. But was she? 

Poliahu thinks that she's still there, despite everything. She has reached the middle of Mauna when she passes by one of the tourists, a boy not older than seventeen and flashes him a grin. The boy bushes, smiles back timidly, his awkwardness almost endearing and Poliahu's smile grows wider. She still has it. She'd rather challenge him for a race than to seduce him but she has time for neither: from the corner of her eye she sees someone approaching, someone who glows with fire and she knows she's found what she's come for.

"Poliahu." Even the voice is beautiful in Pele, warm, deep, right. Poliahu feels the hate coursing through her. Predictably, Pele reveals herself when there's male company, when there's someone whose attention can be stolen.

Poliahu lifts her arm, creating a cloud of mist and fine snow, between them and the boy. "Pele."

They stare at each other, squinting menacingly as each assesses the other. 

"You look pale," Pele jabs.

"You look ruddy," Poliahu retorts. Pele does look ruddy but it suits her. The high cheekbones, the wide set eyes, the proud nose the generous lips. Everything in that face glows with strength and warmth. Poliahu knows her beauty is also great, but different and she doesn't pay attention to Pele's insult.

Looking around her, she goes for the next jab. "These fools, they don't know better, do they?"

"Jealous? It must be lonely up there."

Poliahu feels her feet burning and looks down. The sly bitch made the rock melt under her. She hops from one foot to the other, casting down a blanket of snow until she can stand on her blistered feet.

"You," she says, slowly shaking her head. "You never change, do you?"

"Why should I? I'm loved as I am." 

Poliahu lunges forward to punch Pele but she misses her face. They fall into a lock of arms, then Poliahu, wily, locks her ankle behind Pele's knee and tosses her to the ground, falling on her with a blanket of snow. She hears from afar the exclamations of mortals but she is busy pulling Pele's hair, making her scream, rolling down the hill in the mud that generates beneath them as fire turns ice to water.

Poliahu finds that she is laughing. She should be angry at Pele, that venomous bitch, but she feels too alive, too full of energy to waste it in hate. She punches and ducks and rolls and screeches and laughs until they reach the sea. They stop fighting in the shallow water. A fine mist rises around Pele, whereas around Poliahu, the thinnest coat of ice forms. They both pant and then Pele starts laughing too.

"All right, I admit it. It's good to see a familiar face, instead of all these mortals."

They float in companionable silence until Pele asks, "Do you think Kanaloa is around? I miss everybody, even Na-maka-o-kaha`i."

Poliahu examines her from the corner of her eye. "I've been sleeping for a while..."

"I know."

"I've seen no one else."

Pele shrugs. "I'm sure they're around."

The tense lines around her smiling mouth seem to deny that thought, but Poliahu just wants to change subject.

"You're still beautiful."

Pele shamelessly bobs in the water so that her breasts come to the surface for a few instants. "I know."

Poliahu bristles at her cheek but before another brawl starts, Pele adds hurriedly, "You too. I mean, still are beautiful."

Poliahu lifts an eyebrow in disbelieving thanks. Pele laughs, touches Poliahu's face with her fingertips and starts heading for the shore.

"The summer's going to be long," she throws over her shoulder. "You should come by some time."

Poliahu smirks, then smiles. Pele inviting her over? She laughs. The world _has_ gone crazy. But why not? And she should find the others too. Pele doesn't wait for an answer, which is unnerving but oddly reassuring - after all, it serves to prove that some things never change, and Pele's lack of manners is one of them

"I will," she whispers at Pele's back. "I will."

_Finis  
October 2008_


End file.
